“You should take it hot,” said the doctor. “Then there will be a gentle perspiration and you will be better.”
“You are a scholar,” said Ts'ao, sitting up, “and know what is the correct thing to do. When the master is ill and takes drugs, the attendant first tastes them; when a man is ill, his son first tastes the medicine. You are my confidant and should drink first. Then I will swallow the remainder.”
“Medicine is to treat disease; what is the use of any one’s tasting it?” said P‘ing. But he guessed now the conspiracy had been discovered so he dashed forward, seized Ts‘ao Ts‘ao by the ear and tried to pour the potion down his throat. Ts‘ao pushed it away and it spilt. The bricks upon which it fell were split asunder. Before Ts‘ao Ts‘ao could speak his servants had already seized his assailant.
Said Ts‘ao, “I am not ill: I only wanted to test you. So you really thought to poison me.”
He sent for a score of sturdy gaolers who carried off the prisoner to the inner apartments to be interrogated. Ts‘ao took his seat in a pavilion and the hapless physician, tightly bound, was thrown to the ground before him. The prisoner maintained a bold front.
Ts‘ao said, “I thought you were a physician; how dared you try to poison me? Some one incited you to this crime and if you tell me I will pardon you.”
“You are a rebel; you flout your Prince and injure your betters. The whole world wishes to kill you. Do you think I am the only one?”
Ts‘ao again and again pressed the prisoner to tell what he knew, but he only replied that no one had sent him; it was his own desire.
“And I have failed and I can but die,” added he.
Ts‘ao angrily bade the gaolers give him a severe beating and they flogged him for two watches. His skin hung in tatters, the flesh was battered and the blood from his wounds ran down the steps. Then fearing he might die and his evidence be lost, Ts‘ao Ts‘ao bade them cease and remove him. They took him off to a quiet place where he might recover somewhat.
Having issued orders to prepare a banquet for next day Ts‘ao invited all the conspirators thereto. Tung Ch‘êng was the only one who excused himself, saying he was unwell. The others dared not stay away as they felt they would be suspected.
Tables were laid in the private apartments and after several courses the host said, “There is not much to amuse us to-day but I have a man to show you that will sober you.”
“Bring him in,” he said, turning to the gaolers, and the hapless Chi P‘ing appeared, securely fastened in a wooden collar. He was placed where all could see him.
